One Hour Eternity
by kireira
Summary: It wouldn't be enough no matter how many games they played. Shindou couldn't afford losing time... but Touya couldn't afford losing him, either.


**One-Hour Eternity**

..

_Methinks I see the wanton hours flee,  
And as they pass, turn back and laugh at me.  
**- George Villiers**_

..

.

By the time Shindou arrived at the Go salon, Touya had been too immersed in the kifu to be checking the door every five minutes. It wasn't until a shadow fell on the board that he looked up.

"You're late," was on the tip of his tongue, but he took a look at Shindou's ragged appearance and asked, "What happened to you?"

Shindou threw himself on the chair and breathed out, "Nothing."

Touya wasn't the only one who wasn't convinced -- the boy's worrying look had made Ichikawa follow him in from the salon entrance.

"Shindou-kun, are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Just a bit tired out," Shindou answered in clipped breaths. "Went on a quick trip. Sorry I'm late."

Ichikawa took a glance at Touya, who had his gaze intently on Shindou. "I'll get you something to drink," she said, and left the boy to Touya.

"Was there an emergency?" Touya asked. Years of their interaction had improved Shindou's sensibility greatly, and it wasn't often that he was this late without calling beforehand.

Shindou made a few stretching movements. "Not really. Just decided this morning that I needed to go there for a while."

"'There'?" Touya inquired.

"Some old place," Shindou mumbled vaguely. "Let's play before it gets late. Is it okay to clear this?" His hand was poised above the recreated game.

"It's okay, but..." Shindou had already started clearing the board, and Touya followed, a bit hesitantly. "Shindou, why don't you take a rest first."

"Nah, I'm already here. My body's exhausted, not my brain."

"You should've just gone home straight."

Shindou tilted his head. "This from _you_? I'd expected you to drag me into a game the second I showed up after keeping you waiting for over an hour."

Touya sighed. "You obviously haven't looked into a mirror."

Shindou shrugged.

Ichikawa came back with a cup of hot chocolate. "Here, Shindou-kun."

"Thank you," Shindou gulped it down immediately, wincing a little from the initial burn.

"Have you eaten anything at all?" Ichikawa asked, noticing the symptoms of starvation.

"Uh yeah, a bit." Shindou was obviously uncomfortable being fussed over. No one did that to him aside from his mother, and he'd never seen Ichikawa pouring concern over someone other than Touya Akira. He grabbed a handful of stones. "Nigiri."

More out of habit than anything else, Touya obliged. Ichikawa decided to leave them and went back to the counter.

Despite Touya's worries, Shindou played as well as he usually did.

_Better, even_, Touya thought, noticing how aggressively Shindou was exploiting every opportunity to attack. He wasn't the one with stronger drive for victory between the both of them usually, and this seemed to be one of those rare occasions that fired him up for reason unknown.

"Let's discuss it," Touya offered after the game ended.

"Later," Shindou declined, surprising him. "Let's play another game."

_He really was fired up_, Touya thought. He nigiri-ed this time, and Shindou placed his guess.

As Shindou drew his hand away, a stone slipped from between his fingers, falling out to join the two stones he'd put on the board. Only then Touya realized how Shindou's hands were shaking.

"Shindou," he said sharply.

Shindou withdrew his hand to massage his temple briefly. "That would be three. Odd."

"Not that. Let's stop here."

"No," Shindou insisted. "Count your stones."

"I'm not playing with you barely holding the stones properly," Touya said firmly. He withdrew his hand to put the stones back into the goke, but Shindou grabbed it.

"Play, Touya. We don't have much time."

His grip was feverish and shaky, and Touya stared at it as he summoned their match schedules into his mind. It was the second round of the Honinbou League preliminaries, and Shindou would have his match four days from now, winning which, he'd be facing Ogata 10-dan next.

Was this the reason he was hurrying so much? But Shindou had been his usual confident self when Touya last watched his game -- for good reason too, as it had been a sound victory over Kadowaki 3-dan.

It just didn't make sense, though he realized idly that he should've been accustomed to that by now, for all the secrets that Shindou was still keeping from him.

"It wouldn't do to have you sick before your match," Touya said, gently shaking off Shindou's hand.

"I'll be fine," Shindou said, and he grabbed Touya's hand once again. Stones fell out of the forced open palm.

"Shindou!" Touya raised his voice, and he pulled his hand away forcefully. Shindou hadn't acted this childishly since they were sixteen. "The game can wait."

"No."

Touya's mouth opened to counter, but Shindou stopped him with a strange look. "No, it can't wait."

Their stares clashed for a long moment, and past the emotions raging in Shindou's eyes, Touya thought he saw the reason why.

Touya might not have played a ghost who'd disappeared in the middle of a game, but he did almost lose a father to a sudden heart attack.

Touya broke the eye contact to look at the goban, at the monochrome layout that had enchanted countless players for centuries. He thought back to the third captain match in the only amateur tournament he'd played in his entire life, to the racing hands in their first pro match-up two years later... to the lone stone on top of the goban his father was facing in the middle of the night.

It did feel like there would never be enough time.

When he looked up again, Shindou was still watching him. There was uncertainty in his rival's stare, despite the stubborn pout on that I'm-not-backing-down expression.

And Touya realized, Shindou was counting on him to understand. On him, of all people, to not say that a game of Go made no difference played today or tomorrow. He who had dragged sixth-grader Shindou all the way from the train station to confirm his crushing defeat, he who had ditched the first day of his pro exam for an online game with...

"That's right," Touya said, a subdued smile on his face. "It's already May, isn't it."

Shindou's shoulders froze visibly. He searched over their conversation for any clue he'd let on -- how, and _what_, did Touya know?

But Touya's gaze, locked with his, spoke of genuine concern rather than curiosity, and Shindou relaxed a little. Touya couldn't possibly know what had happened between him and Sai.

Touya simply knew what it meant to his Go.

Touya spoke up. "It was around this time, five years ago." ...that Shindou had quitted Go.

Shindou leaned back, the momentary tension adding to his fatigue. "Yeah."

Touya thought that whatever brought Shindou back to Go, must also be what lit this fire in him. But while Touya was more than happy to oblige, it was all the more reason he couldn't let Shindou burn himself out.

"I'm not going--" Touya started, but a thought occured to him, and he stopped himself.

"What?" Shindou asked, when it was apparent that Touya wasn't going to continue.

Touya took a while to measure his words. "I was about to say that I wasn't going anywhere... but then I realized I wouldn't be able to keep that promise."

Shindou's face changed. "What do you mean you wouldn't be--"

"I certainly have no plan of leaving," Touya said quickly, before Shindou could start to panic. "But nobody really _plans_ on this sort of matter, right? Which is why my father makes sure to play me every time he is home from his Go trips. I mean..." A disturbed expression fleeted through Touya's countenance. "I mean... I think you understand."

Shindou looked down, because the look on Touya's face tore at his own memories, and he'd never live it down if he ever cried in front of Touya.

"I know," he said in a low voice.

Then Touya looked down too, because Shindou's pain was written all over his face, and it hurt to look at him and not being able to help, even when Touya knew it was something Shindou had to solve for himself.

A part of his mind noted how this confirmed several things he'd been speculating about the whole Shindou mystery, but the other part chided him that this was not the time to think about it.

"But I guess what I want to say is," he broke the silence, "it won't be enough no matter how many games we play." He looked up, carefully checking Shindou's reaction. "Even if we play one more game now, it still won't be enough for you."

"Damn right," Shindou grumbled, in an effort to cover up his emotional mess. He sat up and reached for the stones. "We'll play again and again as much as we can, so come on."

But Touya didn't move.

"Exactly why," he said firmly, "you should stop now."

Shindou paused to look at him incredulously. "What kind of logic is that?"

"You're in no shape to play," Touya replied. "Suppose you get through this game, and another, until the salon closes for the day. It still won't be enough, so you'll propose that we skip dinner, and play into the night. Then you'll have to go to bed because you're starting to fall asleep over the goban."

"When have I ever--" Shindou protested, but Touya went on.

"Tomorrow, you'll wake up with a headache, and be incoherent for the rest of the day. You'll continue to play anyway, with half your usual focus, up until a day before your match, when you'll collapse from exhaustion and end up missing the game."

Shindou frowned, but couldn't think of a satisfactory reply, seeing as half of what Touya said could indeed be found in his past experience.

"You should know enough to do things at their time, Shindou," Touya sighed. "Geez. Take better care of yourself. You're not a child anymore."

"Of course I know!" Shindou wasn't pleased. "I just can't afford the time!"

"So spend it wisely!" Touya shot back. "You're still human. Do you really want to die of exhaustion at this age and waste all the future years you could spend playing Go?"

"...You're so extreme," Shindou grunted.

"It could happen," Touya said rather haughtily, but then blushed a little as he looked away. "Once in fourth grade, I only slept a total of three hours over five days, all so I could play more Go. Between that and the many meals I skipped since my parents weren't home, I was bed-ridden for a whole week afterwards. My mother told me the same thing back then."

That seemed to get across to Shindou, though he still wouldn't go down quietly. "That mere thing couldn't have killed anybody," he huffed.

"Maybe, but I figured five days against seven wasn't a winning situation, either."

Unable to argue with that, Shindou relented. "Time is never enough, isn't it," he sighed.

"And there's nothing we can do about it," Touya agreed. "But I know I'll have no regrets as long as I give my all to the one game I'm playing at every moment."

_Their last game wasn't finished -- he'd been too tired to stay awake._

Over the years he'd come into terms with his regrets, but it didn't mean he would forget them. It had been him who left Sai first, not the other way around.

"Shindou?"

Shindou shook himself out of the reverie. "Yeah... I think... you're right."

Touya's watchful eyes rested on Shindou for a while, then that part of his mind again silenced the eager speculations.

"So," Touya said, "the least you can do right now is to _not_ give me a half-conscious game." He started to pick up the neglected nigiri stones. "Go home."

"Actually," Shindou said, "I'm not so tired anymore after our talk just now, so..."

"No," Touya said firmly, reaching for the lid of the goke. "We've played one game, and that should be enough for you to sleep peacefully for now."

Shindou took the lid before Touya's hand got to it. Touya was about to protest, but Shindou simply reached over and closed the goke for him.

"I was about to ask," Shindou said, "if you'd want to go for dinner first."

"Oh," Touya was surprised. "...Sure."

"Great," Shindou said. He looked sheepish. "I'll have to make it up to you later for the games we're supposed to play today... but for now I can at least give you a treat to make up for the time you've wasted for me just now."

Touya paused. He wasn't used to having to think up polite answers when he was with Shindou.

"Don't worry," he said finally, settling with brute honesty after all. "You being my rival, that was a necessary... maintenance routine."

The smack on the top of his head that followed proved that Shindou was indeed recovering already.

.

..


End file.
